


And Maybe We're Crazy

by Not_You



Series: one only understands the things that one tames [3]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Bathing/Washing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, clint is nuts, phil has the patience of an iron saint, totally reasonable and adult courses of action
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-22
Updated: 2013-01-22
Packaged: 2017-11-26 10:35:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/649631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_You/pseuds/Not_You
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for an Avengers kinkmeme prompt for Nick Fury giving hideously difficult sub Clint Barton to a good friend to manage.  No punishment has ever made Clint shape up, and Coulson embarks on a program of ignoring bad behavior and consistently and lavishly rewarding good, that of course initially makes Clint worse as he tries to be bad enough to be punished and get a handle on the situation.  And then they have an emotional breakthrough, which is this fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Maybe We're Crazy

"I crashed the fuckin' bike," Clint says, leaning on the doorjamb.

Phil was afraid of this. Clint has been moody all week, anxious the way he gets any time they're close. Phil has been holding off on the sexual angle, but he's only human and he supposes he's paying for his sins now, for letting Clint push him up against the wall and sink onto his knees, whimpering and cooing like a good boy who always does what his master tells him to as he had fucked his mouth on Phil's cock, blue eyes glazed over. Now he's covered in cuts and bruises, looking as truculent as he had on their first day together.

"Are you all right?"

"Didn't break anything."

"What happened?" Phil asks, putting his book aside and going for the first aid kit.

"I told you," Clint snarls, "I crashed the fuckin' bike. On purpose."

It's worse than Phil thought. Clint had loved that bike. "Why did you do that?" He says, mild as ever as he cleans and bandages Clint's hands and arms. Clint just glares at him, looking enraged and so lost it breaks Phil's heart.

"Because fuck you, that's why!"

"It doesn't do much to me, Clint. I have savings, and all I really care about is that you're all right."

Clint yanks away from him with a roar of rage, less-injured hand flying out to hit him. Phil catches his arm and takes him to the floor without hurting him. He's prepared to keep him there, but Clint goes limp in his arms and starts to cry. It's not the first time, but all the others have been gritted teeth and just a few tears. This is loud, helpless sobbing that shakes his whole body.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" He finally wails.

"I just think you've suffered enough, Clint," Phil says, kissing his salty cheek and making him whimper, new tears rolling down as he struggles to catch his breath. He's flushed and miserable, sniffling like a child. Phil hugs him tightly, pressing Clint's face to his shoulder. "My poor boy."

"…I really did love that bike," Clint whispers, trembling.

"I know. And I can't punish you for punishing yourself, sweetheart." He kisses Clint's cheek again, and Clint whines.

"S-sorry I tried to hit you."

"I know, Clint. That was a terrible punch. You're better than that."

"Jesus fuck, Phil," he laughs through his tears, "you're fucking insane."

"Perhaps," he murmurs, and presses a kiss to Clint's temple. "Be a good boy and stay here for me. I'll be back within ten minutes." He has always taken care not to lie to Clint, not even by accident. It takes him about five minutes to collect everything, and he can see the relief quivering through Clint's body. He sets everything in front of Clint, then goes to turn up the thermostat, not going out of Clint's sight again.

"S-sir?" Clint whispers, eyes downcast as he tries to figure out the stack of folded towels and the mixing bowl of steaming water

"You'll see in a moment." He spreads out the largest one. "On your front, please. Here." He folds a smaller towel to serve as a pillow, heart breaking all over again at how warily Clint complies, like he's expecting a beating. He strokes Clint's hair for a moment once he's in place. "Good boy. Now, tell me if this is too hot." He soaks a washcloth, wringing it out and gently scrubbing the sweat, dirt, and dried blood from Clint's skin, deep purring assuring him that the water is just right. He smiles, and starts humming softly to himself as he cleans Clint. Phil has always taken good care of his things and continues now, gentle of Clint's abrasions as he makes sure that not a speck of dirt remains. Clint slowly but surely melts under him, purring softly into the towel. He's half-asleep when Phil tells him to turn over, and does it with no argument, looking up with the wide, calm eyes Phil has been wanting to see since the moment they met.

"Good boy," he purrs, and kisses Clint's forehead, wringing out the washcloth again and wetting the edge of a fresh one to wash and dry his face, kissing him when he's done.

"I'm sorry," Clint whimpers, hardly audible.

"As long as you're all right and didn't hurt anyone else, it's okay."

"Okay." He shivers when Phil kisses him, and makes a bereft little noise when he pulls away.

"Sshh, sweetheart. I want to make sure I get you clean and dry." And he does, cleaning up every part of Clint down to the soles of his feet and the spaces between his toes. He lets out a reflexive little giggle, and Phil smiles down at him. "Ticklish?"

Clint shuts down a little at that, always loath to give up his vulnerabilities. And then he swallows, and gazes up at Phil with those wide, needy eyes. "Yes, sir. B-but please don't…"

"I want you calm, Clint, not a spastic wreck." He kisses the tops of Clint's feet and sets the washcloths aside, carefully drying him. "Now, go to the bedroom but stay down, all right?"

"Yes, sir," Clint says softly, rolling up onto all fours and crawling away. Heat blooms through Phil's body and he actually feels slightly faint as he watches that perfect ass in motion. He cleans up quickly, and comes into the bedroom to find Clint kneeling at the foot of the bed, looking like an illustration from the Submissive Handbook with his taut forearms crossed behind his back and his forehead resting against the footboard. His eyes are closed, and he is as steady as a rock.

Phil sighs, just taking in the sight for a long moment. "Oh, such a good boy," He says at last, kneeling behind Clint and pressing against his naked back. Clint whines, trembling.

"For you, sir. I… I want to be good for you."

"And that's all I want, Clint." He kisses the back of Clint's neck. "Just for you to want to be mine." He's not prepared for the sharp little sound that rips itself out of Clint's throat, and it doesn't seem like Clint is, either. He shakes, nails digging into his own skin as he fights not to break position.

"Yours, sir," he whispers, voice cracking. "I'm yours."

"My good boy," Phil agrees, and kisses his neck again.

"Please, sir, please let me look at you," Clint whimpers, trembling more than ever.

"Of course, Clint. You're being so good for me. Get into bed. You're allowed to stand," he adds at Clint's faint hesitation. At that Clint scrambles into bed, nestling down in the blankets with his eyes locked on Phil's face. Phil smiles softly, and gets his own clothes off, methodically hanging them as if Clint isn't watching his every move. Finally done, he crawls in beside Clint and gathers him in against his chest, nuzzling that cropped hair. Clint whimpers and presses himself in against Phil's heartbeat, clinging to him.

"Do you forgive me for being bad, sir?" Phil feels Clint's lips move more than he hears him speak, and hugs him even closer.

"Of course I do, Clint. I was never angry with you to begin with."

Clint whimpers. "You're crazy, sir."

Phil laughs and rubs soothing circles on Clint's back. "Maybe so."

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic]And Maybe We're Crazy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4606377) by [OnlyAugustine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnlyAugustine/pseuds/OnlyAugustine)




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